Of sentiment and feelings
by Sisterspy
Summary: Mycroft drops by and Sherlock finds something interesting on his phone, but Mycroft uses the opportunity to make Sherlock aware of having feelings for someone. Fun and fluff ahead.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am horrible, I need to finish my thesis but couldn't get this story out of my head and because after tomorrow I'll have to time to write more again. Not a native so forgive this Dutchie for getting all the anglo-stuff wrong and please help with me constructing criticisms, it really helps me improve my writing. **

It all started when Sherlock had gotten bored again. He'd invited Mycroft over for board games in hopes of pestering him into handing him some intelligence work just to relieve him from his boredom. Mycroft had simply refused him, and even added a few comments on secrecy and his lack of subtlety. Sherlock in revenge had lifted Mycroft's phone just to annoy him, with the first step Mycroft took on the stairs he was already going through his texts.

It took Mycroft exactly thirteen steps to realize what had just transgressed and hurried back up the stairs shouting "Sherlock!" as he went. He got no response, but found his brother standing on top of the table holding his phone of his head, quickly scrolling through his messages. "Give that back immediately!" He urged his brother a little bit more out of breath than he deemed healthy.

"Nope" was Sherlock's reply. "You're getting sloooow, brother mine." He added while he kept scrolling. Sherlock expression went from a concerned frown to a devilish grin. Mycroft contemplated sweeping his little brother off the table with his umbrella when he got his phone handed back to him. "You very well know this could be considered an act of treason." He said sternly while quickly pocketing his phone. Wearily he eyed his brother who still hadn't stopped grinning. "It was rather childish of you."

Elegantly Sherlock jumped off the table. "And here I was thinking you would never be able to get your own goldfish, but those texts to Anthea tell a rather different story, don't they? I thought caring wasn't an advantage and all hearts are broken. But apparently you'd rather see her come apart in a very different way. Good for you."

"Those were encoded messages; it's a very simple and effective way to fool most people, apparently even you." Mycroft sounded very annoyed, but his cheeks were still red with embarrassment. The way Sherlock was intensively staring at him through narrowed eyes didn't help with that.

"Code? Really?"

"Yes, really." Mycroft replied, his mouth becoming a thin straight line, as he clenched his jaw.

"No."

"You see how easy it is to even fool you with these sorts of things."

"No, all of your lines are secure, so you have no need for coded messages. There is absolutely no pattern in the words, sentences, or text in general. However it does give a rare insight in how you let sentiment get the better of you and a rather disgustion elaboration of your sexual needs."

Sherlock shuddered. "If I don't delete those texts from my brain instantly I'm going to be sick. So much for being the 'ice-man'. It seems you weren't so immune to sentiment after all. Luckily for me I don't have that problem." He energetically swooped up his violin and strode over to the window.

"Mother will be so happy that you will be able to provide her with some grandchildren. She's been badgering me about it for ages. It was bad enough I had to explain that despite the articles in the tabloids my state of virginity had not been tampered with. She was rather disappointed."

Mycroft looked as if he was about to explode, something which didn't go unnoticed by Sherlock.

"You may try and convince the world of your asexuality, but I'm your brother and unfortunately for you, I'm the smart one."

"Oh please." Sherlock sneered. "Because shagging your PA, is so very smart."

Through clenched teeth Mycroft tried to contain his seeding rage.

"Despite what many think, you're a straight male, who's sexually interested in women but such feelings you put aside. You think most of them not smart enough to be your equal, but Ms. Adler outsmarted you. This only confirmed your suspicion that women only use their looks and wit to deceive. You're convinced no women will ever be trustworthy enough and understanding of your methods to be worthy of you."

"Nonsense, there is one woman I've always…" The words had escaped his mouth before he realized his mistake.

Mycroft pursed his lips into a sarcastic smile. "Indeed little brother, and now that you're aware of this small fact it will be a lot harder not to act on it, won't it?"

Sherlock scoffed at his words and threw his violin on his chair, and turned to face his brother.

"Love is just a chemical defect on the losing side, wasn't that what you told Ms. Adler?"

His comment earned him an intense glare from his younger sibling.

"I said sentiment, not love. Its nonsense however, just because I'm aware of certain chemical reactions doesn't mean I need to let them rule me. That would be rather silly and not so smart. I'm not you Mycroft, now leave. "

His older brother made his way over to the door. "I sincerely doubt you would be able to remain impassive now that you're aware of it, I just hope you don't get carried away."

"I never let myself get carried away."

Mycroft was already making his down the stairs, but Sherlock was still able to hear his last words before leaving the flat. "Keep telling yourself that, little brother."

As he heard the door downstairs being closed he picked up his violin again and let himself sink down in his chair. He cursed his brother for having the audacity to point out such things. He realized that, even if he had been aware of his feelings on some level, being fully aware could prove to be a problem. He contemplated deleting the conversation he'd just had, but opted out because Mycroft would surely find a way to repeat this line of inquiry only to trap him into another game of wordplay. One he was sure to lose, because no matter how hard he consciously tried to ignore it, his subconscious was very much aware and if he wouldn't be able to contain himself he would surely act on his sentiment by pure instinct. A mistake he couldn't afford to make.

Downstairs his brother stepped into a sleek Jaguar talking into his phone. "Yes, he took the bait. You know what to do."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Is that an update?! Yes it is! I've come back from Cloud Cuckoo land and am able to be amongst the living once again. Updated my thesis, went to enjoy the sun with my kids and now back with what is hopefully a nice new chapter. Third chapter is already written, but not yet typed out. That will follow later this week, but for now enjoy and let me know what you think! Oh and forgive me for any errors, this was one a little bit in haste!**

Sherlock was still pondering his brother's words when the ringing of his mobile phone shook him out of his reverie.

"Lestrade, tell me you have something interesting for me!" He jumped up and hurried to get his coat. "Ah, excellent! I'll meet you there in ten!" He shouted while hurrying out the door.

* * *

Being a drama queen Sherlock bursted through the doors in the morgue, pushing them aside with both hands, making sure his collar was up even though it was extremly hot outside.

"Ah, Molly! Where is Lestrade and why are you wearing a mouthcap?"

Molly's quickly turned her head to him and immediately pointed to a stack of caps seated on the chair next to the door.

"Put one on, right now." She ordered.

"Why?" He questioned rather annoyed that Molly felt it necessary to command him, still hearing his brother's words in the back of his head.

"No, not why! Just put the bloody thing on. You know damn well why and when we wear masks."

She kept a narrow eye on him as he grumbling put on the mask and switched his Bellstaff for a lab coat, making sure he followed procedure.

"Suspected infectious disease then?"

"Of course."

"Which one?"

"Yet to be determined"

"Just got in then?"

"About fifteen minutes ago."

"That's about the time I spoke to Lestrade."

"Yes, well he was the one who brought in the body, but he left as soon as I mentioned the possibility of infectious disease."

"He said something about the body being found in a bathtub full of green slimy stuff."

"He also said that you would be able to handle this on your own."

"Did he now? Why would he say such a thing, he knows my skills to be…"

"Yes he knows, Sherlock. He just didn't want to be here. So, would you like to take a closer look before I take out his organs?"

"Yes, please." He was sniffing up the cadaver through his mask. "What is that awful smell?"

"I suspect it's jell-o, lime flavored maybe?"

"Hmm, I think you might be right, also about the infection, but that's not what killed him."

"Nope, asphyxiation, so maybe autoerotic ritual gone wrong?"

"Looks like it. But then why would he exhibit symptoms of a tropical disease, while showing no signs of a recent visit to the tropics." Sherlock took out his magnifying glass, studying the corpse' red dots.

Molly smiled behind her mask, shrugging her shoulders. "Well we should know soon enough, the new lab technician is specialized in tropical diseases, he just came back Indonesia after spending four years there getting his PhD. He thinks himself to be quite an expert."

Sherlock looked up and managed to see the amusement in her eyes. "Don't they all?"

He sighed and got upright again. "This fellow does look a bit bloated though, hope he doesn't explode, looks like a beer drinker probably his last meal, so there will be some gas to leave his body as soon as you cut him open."

Molly waved absently with her scalpel. "Oh, don't worry about it, it's doubtful he would explode, would be the first. A little gas is to be expected with these sorts of men, his dietary habits weren't very favorable."

"Still you might want to be careful when you make the inc…"

One moment Molly had skillfully put her scalpel into the man's chest, the next they were both completely covered in decomposing organ tissue. Both stood frozen looking at each other in utter horror. Sherlock's hair was covered in leftovers of what Molly suspected once belonged to a heart. For a few seconds neither was able to respond to their predicament, that was until it dawned on Molly what could be the outcome of this unfortunate event.

"We don't know how the virus spreads and whether it is deadly, we need to be decontaminated!"

She saw the alarm grow in his eyes as he pointed to the glass bottles of 70% ethanol. "Grab one of those and follow me!" She obeyed and followed Sherlock, who took a bottle of bleach out of the cabinet and marched towards the showers. She stepped out of her ballerina's as her consulting detective was struggling to open the buttons of his not so white shirt. He failed horribly as his buttons were sodden with grease. Molly had shaken off her lab coat when she noticed him violently tugging at his buttons.

"Come on, Sherlock. Hurry!"

"I just can't seem to get these buttons…"

It took her only a small step to stand front of him and immediately she ripped his shirt open, tearing all the buttons off. He was out of the shirt before his brain had managed to register what was happening. With a single move she flicked open his belt and dragged down his pants to his ankles. "Clearly you've done this before." He said loosening his mouth cap and discarding it on the floor. He stepped out of his trousers still keeping his eyes on the tiny woman in front of him.

"Shut up and help me get out of this dress." Molly snapped and turned her back to him towards him.

"My pleasure." He said sarcastically and with a tearing sound he ripped apart the seams from her zipper, ruining her dress.

"Oh you…" Molly clenched her teeth and then giving in and sighing deeply. The water from the showers was drenching them both, washing away the remains of the overweight forty something male. "Sorry, I just don't want the world's only consulting detective to die of a ridiculous infectious disease, the world needs you."

A little bit defeated she opened the bleach bottle and started soaking him with it. He did the same with the alcohol she brought, but didn't stop looking at her. "It's not your fault, you know. And I'm the one to say sorry because since you're the only pathologist who'll work with me, neither are you allowed to die. I couldn't possibly do my work properly without you." The bottle of bleach hung in the air as she stopped and sought his eyes. She swallowed and went to say something, but stopped and let out a deep breath. She brought up a smile he knew to be only halfhearted, mainly used to hide her true emotions, but refrained from commenting.

"Well then." She said, resting her eyes on his torso. "Let's get us cleaned up quickly then."

The alcohol bit and the bleach stung, but frantically they scrubbed one another until Sherlock arrived at her chest, at which point he slowed down his cleaning pace and started to work more tenderly. Suddenly realizing the predicament they were in, soaking wet left in only their undergarments, and while he wasn't much of a prude he was very grateful his black boxers weren't see through. His body reacted at his minds realization as he was staring at the upper curves of her breasts. Because she was preoccupied with his torso she didn't seem to notice his change, but as she was moving her washing down his abdomen the sensation in his lower belly grew as she rubbed just above the band of his boxers. He noticed he stopped breathing, any second now she would look further down and…

The scraping of a men's throat brought both of them back to reality.

"Uhm, Dr. Hooper?"

"Hi,… Arthur. I was, you know, we were…" Molly stuttered, not knowing how to deal with the situation.

"Yeah, you know what you don't have to explain. I can just come back later; I just had the results you wanted ASAP?"

"What sort of virus was it?" Sherlock questioned.

"Do we need to be treated?" Molly added hastily. "The body it exploded, so are we exposed to any…"

"Exploded?! What…how…" Arthur was obviously very confused.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "None of that is important, now what sort of infectious disease was it and what treatment would be recommended?"

Arthur remained uncomfortable at the door, not knowing where to look. "Well, those specks you found on the dead guy were actually just caused by a mild reaction to a vaccination. Some people get these mild symptoms due to…"

"Yes, we're aware, you're excused; now please go back to your own lab." Sherlock remarked coldly, eager to get the technician out of the room. Arthur hurried out through the doors, and they were left alone, still dripping wet and not entirely clean.

"Soooo, not deadly then." Molly finally remarked, feeling very awkward.

"Nope, but being covered in the remains of an unidentified corpse is never to be recommended."

She shook her head. "No, it isn't."

"Do you perhaps have a clean lab coat for me to wear? It would seem rather odd to just wear my coat. "

She let out a small chuckle. "Why don't you go wash up further, I'll sneak to the locker room and see if I can steal some of Arthurs clothes, he's about your height and it would be better than just the lab coat and the Bellstaff. In the mean time I could get my own spare clothes, you know; still got a mess to clean up and lots of bodies to cut open." Absently she tugged a strand of wet hair behind her ear.

"Why would you steal clothes for me, that doesn't really sound like Molly."

Leaving a pool of water she tiptoed her way to the doors. "I know, but they would assume you did it anyway." And with a cheeky smile she left him standing there shivering, but smiling.

* * *

Mycroft sat alone in his dark office when he answered the phone. "Yes?" He dropped down his pen and started listening more carefully. "Send the photos and video footage to my email. Your country thanks you." His last sentence thickly coated with sarcasm and accompanied with a false smile. He rolled his eyes at the eagerness and naivety of the young lab technician. With a sigh he found the right contact in his phone.

"It's me, I'm receiving video and photos as we speak. I'll send them as soon as the Wi-Fi will allow. Damn building has terribly reception, these walls are too thick."

He waited as the other person on the line cheered. "Just as you predicted they were getting comfortable under the shower." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Remind me again, why are we doing this?"

"Ah yes, you blackmailed me. How could I possibly forget?"

"What I have planned next? Well seeing as Sherlock has something for clever women, it would seem only natural that it's time to reveal her as such. I hope you like to play a game."

"Yes, something she's very good at. I'll have Anthea set up the meet and send the invitations."

He ended the call and put down his mobile. With his hands under his chin the corner of his mouth curled up in amusement. "Well Sherlock, let's see what you can deduce about this."

**A/N: So how was it? Did I make any grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me on anything. And for those who noticed me letting Molly say jell-o instead of Hartley's, that was deliberate and is actually sort of a clue for the next chapter. Sooo what are they going to do next chapter?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am so so so so sorry for leaving you guys waiting for such a long time. Becoming a teacher takes up too much of my time, so does having two kids and a difficult relationship. Thank you for all the great responses I received for the last chapter, I will do my best to send pm's to those who do. Anyway onto the chapter, this chapter is actually a lot longer, I'm just not finished yet. So, here you go the first part of chapter 3!**

Part I of Chapter 3

It had been a week since the incident and Sherlock had tried every possibility he could think of to stop dreaming about it. Every night Molly would appear in his dreams clad in that navy blue bra with matching thong. He'd kept up not sleeping for three days until he fell into a deep slumber on the couch where he instantly returned to their mutual shower where instead of Arthur interrupting Molly had looked down, gasped and given her a look of desire. Since then he'd gone to sleep only because he was too exhausted to stay awake and his brain needed to shed the built up chemicals in his head from thinking so much. He'd awoken every single time with his body in full arousal proving his attraction and it was starting to bother him a lot. He needed his focus; his work and safety, not to mention the safety of those surrounding him depended on it.

"Remind me again, why are we here?" Sherlock asked John sounding very tired an annoyed. "Because it's Mary's birthday party and apparently she misses all the action, so our little one is staying with Mrs. Hudson and we are here playing laser tag."

"Again, why was my presence required?" John just shot him a frown. "Because she's my wife, and you're my best friend and she thought you would like this better than sitting down and mingle."

Sherlock blinked. "I suppose that would have been more of a burden, and I should be thanking her."

John chuckled and shoved him inside. "Come on you git. Let's get inside, Mary's waiting."

They were about to enter when Sherlock's eyes caught Molly approaching, she was dressed completely in black. Tight yoga pants showed off her legs rather elegantly and a black figure hugging tank top completed her outfit.

"Hi guys." She greeted cheerfully. "Sorry I'm late, there was this awfully smelly corpse bugging me at the end of my shift and…"

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asked with a rather deep frown and an increasing heart beat. His mind wandered back to their last encounter and he could feel the warmth pool in his cheeks and other places.

"Sherlock." John warned him.

"It's okay John." She smiled warmly her cheeks turning red as well. "Well, Mary invited me, said we were up against the boys."

"But you're the only one of us without fire arm training!"

Now it was Molly's turn to frown. "I thought Mary and I both weren't graced with experience. Would still be fun for you guys though, you can easily beat us unless we play hide and seek in there. Oh look, there's Greg." She waved at Lestrade, who was approaching them.

Sherlock seemed confused at her comment, but when he turned around and saw the inspector strolling towards them.

"So, I hear it's going to be a good old-fashioned boys against girls game." Was his first comment after having greeted them.

"Good old fashioned girls against boys game?" Sherlock scolded. "It can only be immensely boring as the three of us have all the advantage. Well, except for you, you're actually a horrible shot George."

Lestrade rolled his eyes. "Greg, as you bloody well know, and I happen to be second best in my class."

"Must have been a small class." Sherlock commented, not even trying to hide his smirk. His remark caused Molly to let out a giggle.

Mary had entered the scene and had managed to catch the last few sentences.

"Oh stop teasing him, Sherlock!"

"Hello love." She greeted John with a kiss on the mouth, Sherlock got one on his cheek, Lestrade on both and gave Molly a friendly while receiving congratulations from all.

"So, let's get started!"

As soon as the doors opened Molly and Mary sprinted away like they knew the place as the back of their hands. They sought out the highest part of the area, which could only be entranced through a secret passage leading to their current hideout. It gave them an overview of the entire floor plan.

Mary retrieved a roll of dark duck tape and while she helped Molly put it over her harness she did the same for her.

"Oh, by the way…" Molly remarked "Are you out of your mind?!" Mary shot her a mischievous look.

"Don't give me that look! You know bloody well I love shooting stuff and hard it is for me not to go all out with this."

"Oh come on, it's just a game, why don't you just let yourself go for a bit."

Molly sighed. "Perhaps I should just call you Amanda in front of Sherlock, I'm sure he would catch on just as quickly."

"When was the last time you ran around in high heels waving a gun? It's been ages! You need this and so do I, besides they won't know what's coming to them."

Both of them settled into their position on the ground. "I hope you're right, the consequences of this could be too great."

"Molly, stop thinking. Just for once wouldn't it be nice to beat the shit out of Sherlock. I mean in laser tag of course, he would definitely notice when you would use your Krav Maga on him."

Molly sighed in defeat and shook her head slightly. Mary only observed the sigh, but the sound was lost by the countdown of the first minute and was ended with the start of loud techno music filling the area. Molly's defeat was soon replaced with enthusiasm as she excepted the temptation before her. She focused her gun on the area below where the boys where slowly making their way through the maze of black walls. Lying on the floor like this was rather uncomfortable, but Molly shrugged it off, telling herself she'd been in far more awful situations. Last week came quickly to her mind and immediately she felt blood rush to her cheeks. At Mary's signal they opened their fire on the boys.

The lights on their suits went from green to orange almost instantly. Molly couldn't help but snicker at the sight of Sherlock ducking, John did the same, only Greg still stood there next to them staring like an idiot. Molly took the liberty of taking him out to, it wouldn't have been fair otherwise, but somehow she knew Sherlock and John were going to get hit more often than him. Sherlock seemed to have figured out the shot must have come from above and was wildly pointing his gun in any upper directions frantically searching for them.

Molly and Mary took every possible opportunity to shoot the men running ducked down through the maze. When they had reached the tower across from them, which was still lower than their own positions, the men were out of sight for a bit.

All three men took sniper positions; Sherlock gracefully slid down on the floor, like a soldier John dropped himself at once and Greg tripped over Sherlock's long legs and managed to save himself from landing flat on his face.

"But they should have been here!" Sherlock yelled at the other men, trying to be heard above the loudness that was surrounding them. "The angle could have only been shot from above!"

Sherlock was hit again, the lights on his chest blinking orange and an annoying beeping sound came from the suit. He looked ready to throw it off and stomp out of the arena.

"Well clearly they're not here!" John yelled back.

"You should learn how to control that wife of yours! She keeps shooting me!"

"Well this time it's not just you she's after!"

"Yeah, but where the hell are they!?" Lestrade shouted at them. "Any brilliant ideas?"

Sherlock dropped his gun and put his hands to both sides of his head, ready to enter his mind palace, but the music was keeping him from entering, so did the annoying sound of his vest getting hit over and over again. "I can't concentrate with this preposterous noise!" He shouted out frustration shaking his fists. "This sort of music is made to torture people, why would they play this!"

John growled. "I don't care about the bloody music, Sherlock! We need to know where they are! We can't even see their lights from here. "

Sherlock got hit again and backed up, hiding himself behind a wall that covered him from Molly and Mary's line of sight. When John and Greg noticed Sherlock's vests stopped making noise unlike their own they hurried to get behind him.

"Oh crap, they're behind the wall." Molly muttered, ushering Mary to follow her back downstairs signaling that their time left was short. They ran back down the secret passages, removing their duck tape as they went and stuffing it quickly behind a small opening near their exit.

Meanwhile, Sherlock, John and Greg were grateful for the lack of constant noise erupting from their vests. Carefully they tried exposing themselves slowly to see if the ladies were still in position, . When they were finally sure they weren't they took back their sniper positions. Sherlock kept scanning every part of the arena for any sort of movement, but John was the first to spot Mary, or at least a part of her. He opened fire, but as nor their vests or guns were visible he was just wasting his ammo.

The girls had trouble finding a spot that would allow them to shoot the guys without getting shot themselves. John was still shooting at her knee when Molly tried to make her way to another black wall, but Sherlock managed to hit her and John did the same for Mary who had followed her. Sherlock focused his gaze on the other side of the black wall, waiting for Molly to emerge again. He was puzzled by her movements, more like a professional than those of a clumsy pathologist. His thoughts proved to be too much of a distraction because she'd managed once more to hit him, as his vests was barely visible it was more likely she'd hit the tiny target on his gun, a very difficult shot from down there. She'd gotten a wall further as John was shooting at Mary and Greg missed her.

The techno stopped and a robotic voice told them it was game over. The normal lights went back on; Sherlock stood up and observed Molly coming from behind the wall and high-fiving Mary happily. He saw something in her, but failed to place it. John slapped him on his shoulder and out of his reverie.

"Come on, mate. We've gotten our behinds kicked, now let's see how bad."

"What?!" All three men exclaimed as Molly was proclaimed as the winner of the game with a score that made the top ten scores of all time.

"You were Godzilla?" Sherlock questioned.

John frowned at Sherlock and shook his head. "Wow, Molly…well congratulations!" He said still a bit surprised. "I wasn't aware you were so good at this sort of thing."

Molly smiled proudly and tried not to be bothered by the intense staring of Sherlock. She shook her shoulders. "I used to do this a lot with my brothers, learned a lot from them." She hoped her smile and her excuse were enough for Sherlock, but she didn't dare look at him, afraid he'd see through her.

"Time for some carting boys, ready to get your asses kicked again?" Mary broke in and let them to another part of the joint. Molly was grabbed by Sherlock and driven into a corner in the dark hallway.

"You were lying just now, why?" He kept closing more distance between them, stopping inches from her face looking down on her.

"I wasn't ." He took her pulse.

"You were, I can tell. You moved like you've done this sort of thing in real life, and now I would like you to tell me what you are trying to hide from me." He saw her swallow and was pleasantly surprised her answer didn't come out in a stutter.

"Nothing, really it's just…" "Your pulse keeps quickening, Molly." He said still keeping his eyes locked on hers.

"Maybe it's just because you're standing so close to me, Sherlock." He found her eyes wandering to his lips and mirrored her action. His own heart seemed to have doubled its pace and kept increasing by the second. Tiny sparks of electricity seemed to be hitting him over his entire body, a magnetic force was pulling him towards her lips.

"Sherlock! Leave Molly alone! She won fair and square, just because you're such a sore loser does not mean you can pester her!" Mary took Molly's arm and dragged her away from a flustered Sherlock.

**A/N: How do you like the laser tag? And all the grammar mistakes are my own, if someone from the UK would be willing to put up with my awful mistakes I would be so grateful! **


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